Between The Two of Us
by Undercover-Dark-Knight
Summary: She was a Wyvern General of Bern. He was the Ostian spymaster. They'd been brought close to one antoher through unusual circumsatnces, yet the impending war would tear them apart. A Matthew/Brenya fic. NOT romance, now confirmed. T for some harsh words
1. In the Beginning

Hello peoples, this is a new fic that initially started as a MatthewxLeila fic, but quickly devolved into this when it dawned on me that Brenya and Leila are quite.. similar. It charts something that could have happened between Matthew from FE7 and Brenya from FE6 if they had met under... unusual circumstances between the two games. I have half a mind to continue to post-FE6, since i have a few ideas here and there, but i'm not sure how i should develop them. Any future progress (after the 9th chapter, since i wrote the whole lot in a chunk), may be slow because i like to do my research first. At least two weeks, since my uni exams start on Monday. AIEEEEEEEEEESH!

I don't know if i'll ever bring the two together. At the moment I'm swaying a 'no'.

DISCLAIMER: As usual, I don't own Fire Emblem or anything related to it.

Please R&R, preferrably with constructive criticism. I'm aware of my ability to flagrantly disregard all rules of grammar, and the odd spelling mistake, so point those out, especially if its affecting the overall flow/meaning of the story.

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"I wish to ask for three weeks' leave, milord. There's a friend of mine I haven't seen in many years, and I'd like to go visit her."

Hector looked at his spymaster. In the twelve years he'd worked with the man, four days was all it took for him to get to Ilia. Only a trip to the Dread Isle and back could take longer than that. "It's her, isn't it?"

Matthew walked to the window, and looked out. "It's been fifteen years, Hector. I just want to visit quickly, and then I'll be back."

Hector nodded. In a way, he better understood his friend's sadness after Florina had passed away. Not a week went by where he didn't visit her grave. "Very well. Will you be taking anyone else with you?"

Matthew shook his head.

"Well, then, let me write something up to Fargus. You can leave tomorrow. Also, take four weeks; you've earned it."

* * *

"I would send Murdock, but he is far too well known and his disappearance from my side would certainly spark investigations from other countries. So it's either you or Narshen, and as he has yet to prove himself, I would not trust him with such an important mission."

"Are you sure about this milord? I can explore the place alone if you wish." It wasn't the fact that Brenya didn't like having men on this mission, if anything, going to the Dread Isle to explore ruins which could have the capacity to bring dragons back into this world with no support wasn't appealing at all. It was more that she hated the second part of it. Killing people, she was good at, but killing her own troops… well, she just couldn't do it. She'd always ordered her subordinates to do it for her while she watched.

"The men I have assigned you are a unit with a history of insubordination and disobedience. After you complete the mission, I expect you to execute them all. Is that clear?" His tone indicated that there would be no argument on the matter.

"Yes, milord." Brenya saluted King Zephiel and began to leave, but Zephiel raised a hand to stop her. He figured that those soldiers would make a better public example anyway, and he could also… test his general. She was still relatively new to the job, although not recently appointed. In a sense, Bern was at a weak point, with one of the three generals on the Wyvern Council resigning due to age, and another passing away unexpectedly. The cause of death was still being investigated.

"I can see that you are uneasy about executing traitors, and you don't care for having assistance on this mission. Very well, you may investigate alone, however, I expect you to find your own way there and back. Do I make myself understood?"

"Yes, milord." she saluted again and then walked out.

_What have I gotten myself into?_ Brenya thought to herself.

* * *

So have I set the scene well? Please R&R!


	2. A Chance Meeting

Here's the second chapter. There's some action here, and then there won't be for a while.

As a side note, from here on out it will be one chapter Matthew-centric, then swap back to Brenya-centric the next, then swap back to Matthew; however, it will be told from a third-person POV. Yeah, i know, confusing much o_O. Heck, I'm not entirely sure if that's even possible, from a grammatical perspective.

Also, to compound things (terribly sorry, but otherwise it ruins the whole character-centric thing) in the Matthew-centric chapters Brenya will be called "Grace" and in the Brenya-centric chapters, Matthew will be "Richard", until their true identities are unmasked. It's two people, not four. It doesn't matter too much this chapter, but it will for the next... 5~6.

As usual reviews are very much appreciated!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything. Not even the gold that i got Matthew to arena abuse so he could pay for the daggers.

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"Three thousand, I can't go any lower than that. The quality of the workmanship is almost worth more, and you know it."

"Very well. Three thousand it is."

Matthew handed over a sizeable pouch of gold. He had enough experience to know when a merchant was lying, and although he knew that the man could go a little lower, he wasn't about haggle for it. At three thousand, it was still a good bargain; for Leila, he would have been happy to pay double that amount. He'd already bought a few other items that he knew Leila would have loved, a small brooch and a necklace.

It was quite rare that Matthew had much of a chance to wander around. Mos t of the "wandering" he did was often to survey his surroundings. Yet here he was, wandering around Badon, with no purpose whatsoever apart from delaying his return to the inn. Fargus needed a few days to restock, so he was stranded until then.

It soon got dark, and he was on his way back to the inn where he was staying. As he turned the corner, he saw a red-headed woman surrounded by several sleazy-looking men.

"I have told you already, I am not into providing the sorts of services you ask for." Although her voice was level, Matthew could detect a hint of ire in it.

"C'mon, we just want to have a bit o'fun," replied one of the men. Given the way he slurred some of his words, the man was tipsy, but not quite drunk yet.

"Look missy, you can just play along, or we'll make you come. Got it?" This man looked like the ringleader. He was a brutish fellow with a pair of axes hanging from his belt.

The hairs on the back of Matthew's neck began to rise. The woman was a magic user!

Even so, she was outnumbered five to one. Without thinking, he unsheathed the daggers he'd bought earlier, and ran towards the altercation fast descending into a brawl.

The first man didn't have time to scream before the explosion flung him several metres away. The rest of the men jumped back, readying their weapons.

"You… You killed Dave! You're gonna pay for that!"

The men spread out, circling her. That was when Matthew chose to make his entrance, embedding both daggers hilt deep into the back of the man who had just spoken, and pulled them out swiftly again, with the precision and skill befitting an assassin.

Matthew's entrance gave the sage the timely distraction she'd needed. Another fireball exploded into two more of the men, sending them running and screaming.

The last man, seeing his comrades fall, rushed at the woman. A flash of silver and he dropped his sword, clutching his throat and making gurgling noises.

"Many thanks for helping me," came the woman's voice from behind him. "Things could have turned out a lot worse if not for your timely intervention."

Matthew sheathed his daggers and turned to look at the woman. It was only then that he realised how much she looked like Leila.

She was a little taller, and her hair was a darker shade of red, but the resemblance was still there. The somewhat haughty, piercing look and the pale skin reminded him of her even more. And of course, both were very capable of killing. It was something that Matthew found himself very much attracted to.

Despite her somewhat common attire, Matthew could tell at a glance that she was someone of rank. Actually, that was the main difference. Whereas Leila exuded an air of sultry coolness, this woman carried an air of nobility.

The woman dusted herself off, and noticing that Matthew was staring at her, spoke curtly. "I am not into providing those services. As you have seen, I am quite capable of defending myself."

"My apologies, I didn't mean to. It's just that you look very much like someone that I knew. May I have the pleasure of your name?"

"I am Grace. And you are?"

"My name is Richard."

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Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd CUT! As I promised, some action.

Please R&R!


	3. Too Close a Call

This is the test-run chapter to see if you got what i was ranting on about earlier with the whole Brenya=Grace and Matthew=Richard thing.

And yes, this one is Brenya-centric.

I'm trying to gradually build a bit of a cat-and-mouse, 'friendly' love-hate reelationship between the two, but i may have started out a bit too much, too quickly. Please poke me (gently) if i have.

DISCLAIMER: Fire Emblem belongs to Intelligent Systems, not me. Though their AIs could probably use a bit of work sometimes.

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None of the captains were willing to go anywhere near the Dread Isle, and Brenya was beginning to wonder whether the original idea of a Bernese warship and a contingent of soldiers, however rowdy, would have been a better idea. One of the captains had taken pity on her, and pointed her towards the man she was sitting opposite now.

"Your name is Fargus, correct?"

"Well well, I never expected such a beauty ter 'proach me! What can I do for ya?"

Despite the man's tone, she knew at a glance that he wasn't the sleazy type. "I need a ship to the Dread Isle, and I have been told that you're the man for the job. Is that true?"

"You've come t'the right man, missy, 'cept I charge a fee. 50,000 gold, and consider it cheap. It's only cos I happen t'have another boarder at the moment, so I've halved the price for you."

That piqued her interest, but secrecy was of the essence. "I'm willing to pay double the full price if I don't need to share, do we have a deal?"

"I'm sorry but I can't have you taking my ride, Grace. So share with me, or you can go find someone else," a familiar voice came from behind.

Brenya turned around, and came face to face… with Richard.

"Sorry missy, but it's how he says. I ain't kicking him off mah ship, so yer can share, or go find yer own ship."

"Very well, 50,000 it is." Brenya produced a small chest. "This is a 10000 gold down-payment, and will arrange for the rest when we return safely. Is that acceptable?"

Fargus nodded, and looked at Richard jokingly. "Her terms are better than yours! Maybe I should kick yer off mah ship n' take up her offer of double!"

Brenya watched Richard feign a look of horror. "Ah, but I know you're too kind to do that, Fargus. Besides, when haven't I paid you?"

"Hahaha! True, that. I'm still restocking, so you mooncalves will have 'ta wait a day, maybe two before I set sail. Perhaps you should take the time to get to know each other a little better, y'know?"

Brenya nodded mutely. Richard knew this man quite well.

"Well, I better go down and find out how Herman's coming along. Merlinus picked up a rare find with that one. Amazing, truly."

With that the captain got up and headed towards the docks.

"So, Grace, why are you headed to the Dread Isles? They're not exactly the typical holiday retreat."

It took her a full second before she remembered she'd lied about her name, and another full a second before she realised that she better come up with another lie to cover for her real mission.

"I am a travelling scholar, and in some ancient texts I am currently studying they mention an interesting series of ruins on some islands off the coast of Lycia. I believe that the aforementioned islands are none other than the Dread Isles."

Richard raised an eyebrow. "Alone? Yet you can afford fifty thousand, no wait, two hundred thousand on a ship there? Without the backing of a noble? Surely mentioning their names to Fargus might have lowered the prices? It would have been worth a try at least."

Brenya silently conceded the point. Obviously this man didn't buy her story. "I have support, just that I didn't feel the need to mention it. And what about yourself? You don't look like the scholarly type, so what business have you got on the island?"

"Actually, I was contracted by a certain employer to bring back a certain poisonous plant species, which, to the best of their knowledge, only grows on the Dread Isle. They paid well for anonymity, and I'm not about to break the contract."

She noted that he'd said they, so he hadn't even disclosed his employer's gender. This guy was used to this line of work, she surmised. "And what makes you the ideal candidate for acquiring such a plant?"

Brenya was hoping that she could get the man to stammer, as if trying to make up an excuse of some sort. Instead, he smirked. "You could call me an expert in… acquisitions."

She snorted. "You're a thief, in other words."

The man's smirk was still there. "Generally, for finding out as much as you already have, you should be dead. If I told you more about my acquisitions, you'd really have to become an accessory to them. However, given that it was my slip of the tongue, perhaps I'll let it slide."

There was no mistaking that statement. This man wasn't a common thief. He was an assassin, and judging by his confidence, a good one at that. His story was watertight, yet he divulged the information so easily. Too easily. Assassins didn't go around revealing their professions or missions carelessly, as it tended to result in their deaths.

But with the watertight story, there was no opening to get at. She figured that the faster she excused herself from the man, the less likely he was to pick-up anymore holes in her story, or try to kill her. Not that she was afraid mind you, but she didn't like leaving unnecessary bodies lying around. She stood up. "If you'll excuse me then, I'll need to get in touch with my financiers."

The man stepped back and did a bow. "Of course, my humblest apologies for delaying you, Grace." Brenya couldn't work out whether the man was mocking her or not.

It occurred to her after she left the tavern that she had no more than two tomes at most, both of which were obviously iron-bound combat tomes. A scholar, indeed.

She prayed that Richard couldn't read the archaic language, and that she had enough money after giving up that much for a boat.

* * *

Please R&R! There are probably things that could be improved!


	4. Game, Set, Match

Hello all, and yet another chapter. this one diverges a little from the focus of the story, but i felt it necessary to flesh out Matthew's character a bit more. Brenya... well, its not that i'm neglecting her, far from it, but i only have a few lines of dialogue from FE6 to go from, for her personality. All i really get from that is that she's desperately loyal to Zephiel and there's hints of a crush. but given the setting I'm writing in (this is 8 years before FE6 and she's only JUST been appointed wyvern general - so I'd assume limited contact with Zephiel previously, unless our king's been having many a private fling with every high-ranking female in the Bernese army...), I'd say that personality would be for later on, developed from serving directly under him. Fair?

And yeah, I know, Fargus is supposed to be an honourable, upright pirate, but doing a little undercover work for Hector once in a while can't too bad, right? At least it would pay well...

Anyways, please R&R! This chapter was butchered and pieced together again, so i could have left something in that I didn't mean to.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Fire Emblem.

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* * *

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_Scholar who can't name a single text on the topic which they've recently been studying, and doesn't spend every waking moment with her nose buried in a book. _Check._ Can't string together a convincing excuse for going to the Dread Isle. _Check._ Way too much money, yet no mention of financial backing from noble families, heck, not even a single attendant! _Check. _Looks only at the attacking tomes in bookshops. _Check._ And of course, takes two seconds to respond to her name. _Check. _Oh wait, I forgot one. Knows how to kill people really well. Too well to pass off as self-defense. _Check.

"All in all, you make a very bad liar, Grace – if that is your name." Matthew's eyes darted across the room, watching her eat. Sure, eating would be an excuse for not studying, but in the two days he'd observed her movements, he'd never seen her once with a book unless it was one she just bought, and even then, it was nearly always an attacking tome, not some scholarly one. Apparently, the book business wasn't too great these days, since most of the shopkeepers were willing to cough up information for a measly gold coin. Matthew didn't really like to stalk people, but sixteen years of espionage had given the ability to him as a second nature of sorts. Not that he cared. Most of the people he'd had to stalk were fat, lazy old men and their supposedly discreet advisers (whom Matthew thought weren't discreet at all - since they all behaved the same way). At least she was pleasing on the eyes, and was semi sucessful in being discreet with her movements.

"So business as usual then? What'll I call ya this time?" Fargus sat himself down opposite Matthew and spoke in a hushed tone. It amazed Matthew how after years of dealing with the man, the pirate always got the slip on him. The pirate had already turned around to yell at the innkeeper. "Hey Pete, two beers over here!" He turned back to Matthew. "Just to make it look like its two chums catchin' up," he winked.

Matthew nodded. It was one of the reasons he liked doing business with the man. He'd picked up the whole undercover element of Matthew's work quite well, plus Hector trusted the man. In a sense, he'd become part of Ostia's spy network and the marquess' courier of choice for… sensitive goods. "It's not actually business this time, more like a holiday. But call me Richard."

"Well, well, s'interesting. 'The Man', letting his shadow out t'sightsee? Ah, thanks Pete," Fargus nodded to the man bringing the beers over and tossed him two gold coins. "Keep the spare," he winked.

"Yeah well, I'm just visiting a grave there. I left someone behind when we first went there all those years ago. Plus, I'm going to keep an eye on that woman. She's lying about why she's going there. If something weird happens and I don't make it back, inform 'The Man', alright? Give this to him as well." He slid a small cylinder across the table. No doubt it contained some important written info.

The corsair gave the thief a sidelong look. "Yer sure the only thing you gonna do is keep an eye on her?" His face spread into a wild grin as he saw the assassin tense up. "Anyway, I dropped by t'tell yer we're settin' off tomorrow as soon as it's light. Now I'm gonna go over there and inform missy of t'same thing. Take yer luggage to the ship before it gets dark. Oh wait, I forgot, yer never have luggage."

"Get her to move first and then I'll follow suit. I want to observe her for a bit. Haven't finished my beer yet, anyway."

"Yer planned this one out, didn't 'cha?"

"Perhaps, my friend, perhaps."

Matthew pretended to sip his beer while watching Fargus walk over to Grace. Although he couldn't hear anything, the woman only nodded before Fargus got up and left the tavern. Interestingly, instead of going up to her room and gathering her belongings, she walked over to him, "Richard, I was wondering, could you lend me a hand in gathering up all my materials? There's a fair bit of luggage that I have"

Matthew fought hard to resist the urge to smirk. "Ah, but of course, Grace. Maybe it's a good thing I travelled light then." He held up a pair of daggers for her to see.

If there was some way he could capture the stunned look on her face, he would so have done it.

* * *

According to the shopkeepers, she'd only bought a single scholarly book. And six books only? Come on, Canas travelling light was two dozen at least. Even Lord Pent would have carried more. Besides, no scholar kept their room this tidy. Six books stacked on top of one another, with the scholarly one sitting on top. And where were all those scribbles of parchment?

"You travel quite light. The scholars I've seen carry libraries with them, two if you count the ones in their heads." A standard observation, but one that would definitely provoke an interesting response from her.

"Or maybe the library in my head is just a lot better," she countered evenly. "Could you help me carry those tomes? That would save me a second trip to the boat."

Touché. She was a fast learner, this one. But he still had the trump card. He knew she was lying and she didn't know that he knew.

Matthew proceeded to split the tomes into two evenly weighted piles so he could get a look at the tomes she'd bought. He could read the language of mages, or as the scholarly types called it, the 'archaic language', because he'd taken lessons off Serra and Erk, even if his literacy was rudimentary at best.

_Well well, what have we here?_ 'Fire'. 'Elfire'. 'Bolting'. 'Thunder'. 'Wind'.

Yeah, those were really scholarly. From the looks of it, she was more likely to blast the ruins to pieces more than anything else. "Okay, I'm ready," tucking one pile under each arm.

_She really is beginning to remind me of Leila_, he thought to himself. _Her tongue isn't a witty or as sharp, but it's still the sharpest I've seen in a while._

Wait, why was he comparing her to Leila to begin with?

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As usual, please R&R!


	5. A Slip of The Tongue

Yep, here it is, Chapter 5. We've finally moved out of Badon and onto the high seas! The story will probably pick up a little from here on out. Action will come soon, I promise!

The usual: Please R&R. This chapter had things moved around and stuff deleted so there could be rogue words hanging around, no matter how many times i check.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything, Intelligent Systems does. Although I wish I could own Fargus' ship. A ship that can hold out from sinking for the better part of 3 hours while a newbie tactician works how how to do things right is bound to be awesome in more than one way. (No kidding, that's how long i spent the first time round. Okay, i had to reset twice 'cause Hector kept killing himself with that damned devil axe, but hey, how was i supposed to know its chance of backfiring was based off his 4 measly luck? I was just checking out that 18 might)

* * *

At least, on the boat she knew Richard wasn't stalking her. Brenya was under the impression that someone had been following her while she was in Badon, and she was sure it was him.

They'd been sailing for a three and a bit days. She'd spent most of her time holed up inside her cabin, pretending to study and trying not raise Richard's suspicions anymore than they already had been. But she figured that she'd need to take a break sooner or later.

Which was how she'd ended up out on the deck, leaning over the railing and staring at the horizon. This, to her was far more enjoyable. It was also when she noticed that Richard was also out on the deck, chatting with Fargus. Brenya waited until Fargus moved to bark out orders to his crew before walking over to Richard.

That was when she realised she'd never had a proper look at the man. He appeared to be in his early thirties, but with the boyish look on his face, he could have passed for much younger, perhaps even mid-twenties, with that smooth tongue of his. Although he wasn't exteremly well-muscled, his physique nonetheless pointed to a well-toned, lithe man, one who would be quite handy in a fight with those knives she'd seen him use so deftly. She was sure that he was carrying them, hidden by that scarlet cloak of his.

"Ah, Grace. You've spent too much time holed up in that cabin of yours. You really should come out and enjoy the sea breeze more often!" Richard chastised her with a grin.

"Oh, but then I'd have to put up with you," she countered.

Richard put his left hand on his chest mockingly. "Ah, you wound me Grace, you truly do. So, how long do you plan on staying at the island?"

Damn, the man had taken her by surprise again. "Oh, I don't know… maybe a few weeks? What about you?"

He smirked yet again. It was beginning to get annoying, that smirk. It was almost as if he was mocking her with an 'I know you're lying look'. "Well, I've never been there, and all I have is a vague description of a plant by a not very talented scholar, so I could be there for a while. I'm hoping to find some wild animals I can test the potential poisonous plants on to find out which is the one I need, and then harvest some. Otherwise, I might have to use you as a test subject." Again, that evil smirk. "Relax. I'm joking about the last part. But it'll take a while to find and it could be a while longer to get enough. So a few weeks sounds reasonable."

Brenya figured it was her turn to grill the man. "It's an interesting plant they've asked for, especially if they haven't given you its name."

He didn't smirk this time, although she saw the corner of his lip curl. "It's common name is called wormwood. I don't know what you scholars might call it, though."

_Damn, and I thought I had him._ Wormwood, or _Acheronesia Wyrma_ as it was known to scholars, was truly a deadly plant. A drop of the poison was enough to kill. Although it didn't just grow on the Dread Isle, if you wanted any significant quantity of it, that would be the place to go. The other was rare underground caverns with a plentiful supply of water and what sages like herself would define as an evil aura. Not many of those places existed, and those that did weren't really that accessible anyway.

"Say Grace, would you like to make a deal? If you help me find the wormwood, I'll help you out with investigating the ruins. I have keen eyes and can see far ahead in dark places and fog, both of which we'll face if we the rumours about the place are true."

She thought about it. Putting up this man for another few weeks could be a pain, but having his keen eyes around would be very helpful indeed. She was just investigating ruins, right? "Deal."

"Very well then, shall we shake on it?" Richard extended his hand.

Brenya extended her hand in response. That was when she noticed Richard lean in, staring at something on her hand.

"Nice ring you have there. You have a fiancé or something?"

That was when she realised she hadn't taken off her signet ring when she shook his hand. The one that signified she was a Wyvern General. Silently she was thanking Murdock's orders to hide her matching pendant. That one would have been hard to explain.

Her mind moved quickly, searching for an excuse. "Ah… yes. A man I met in during my studies in Bern. He's more of an indoor type of person, so he decided to stay behind."

"Oh, but you're wearing it on the wrong finger. Here, let me fix it up for you."

Before she could react the man had deftly swiped the ring off her index finger and placed it on her ring finger.

Richard smirked, yet again. "Maybe the pirates wouldn't have bothered you if you were wearing the ring correctly to begin with."

If he smirked just once more, Brenya would probably have tried to punch him regardless of the consequences or whether her fist would have connected. Instead, she nodded mutely. At least that was something that couldn't go wrong, or give anything away.

"Oi, you mooncalves! Lunch s'ready!" Fargus' voice echoed from belowdecks.

"Well then, let's get lunch. Ladies first."

Brenya smile politely, and proceeded towards the mess hall.

More than ever, she was regretting not taking up the rowdy contingent. At least they wouldn't make a fool out of her every time they'd meet.

* * *

So how was it? Please R&R!


	6. Playing with Fire

New chapter. Damn, I'm really running out of things to say. I'm aware that the focus on Fargus is annoying at best and is deviating from the story. But if you think about it's a bit like having Kent talking to Sain in a Kent/Lyndis or Kent/Fiora fanfic. That's not entirely unexpected, right? Besides, we're getting off Fargus' awesomely unsinkable ship soon.

Again R&R is something that you really should do. This chapter wasn't butchered much from its original though, so there should only be minor mistakes at most.

As an aside, the names of the two lords referred to in this chapter are NOT pulled out of a hat. They come from somewhere, so hopefully someone will pick 'em up. And when you do figure it out, yes i know officially its an 'a' not an 'e', but i always liked the 'e' better.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Fire Emblem.

* * *

"Land ahoy!" came the voice of the pirate on the crow's nest.

For once, Matthew was caught off guard. He hadn't spoken to Fargus since yesterday morning, after he'd gotten a good look at Grace's ring.

Grace wasn't an ordinary sage. She was a Wyvern General. One of three that made up the Wyvern Council, the highest level of military command in Bern.

_Yeah, scholar my right foot_, Matthew thought.

Murdock, the one that attended Zephiel pretty much all the time, was the leader of the trio. The other two were more inconspicuous, so much so that Matthew, despite having Ostia's impressive spy network at his disposal, didn't know their names. Well, the newly appointed one, he'd only heard about two days before he'd left Ostia, so it was reasonable he didn't know yet, although he did know that the said general was male and a wyvern lord, so she definitely wasn't it.

Which meant that she was the last of the three generals. The one who'd been appointed about 2 months ago when Lord Merquise had retired. Politically, it was a blow to world peace. The man had been a wyvern general as far back as the King Zephiel's grandfather, and worked hard to respectfully curb the current king's ambitions. However, the sudden 'death' (which Matthew had determined to be the work of Eturia) of Lord Aznable brought some respite, as no king in their right mind would invade a country right after newly appointing two-thirds of his most trusted military counsel. Assess your own strength before testing thine enemy's, or so the saying went.

He quickly scanned around for the pirate captain. Nowhere in sight.

"Hey, Jake, where's the chief?"

"The capt'n? He's talking with the woman. Over near the stern."

"Richard! Get yer backside over here now!"

Matthew headed towards the stern. True to Jake's words, Grace was already there.

"T'missy tells me yer working with her when you get to t'island. That true?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Well then, how many weeks stay yer gonna be? That way I know when to pick you up. T'missy said three weeks. What do you say?"

"Four, just to be safe. Who knows, the island could be huge." He glanced sideways at Grace. "What do you think?"

"Four sounds good."

Matthew resisted the urge to smirk. No self-respecting scholar set deadlines like that, even if they'd discussed it before. They'd go into how it depended on how long it took to find the ruins, and then how long it might take to map them out, and ensure that no stone was left unturned.

"Alright then, we should be there by mid afternoon. Yer can go back to whatever yer doin' then. I'll call you mooncalves back up when we're about t'land."

Brenya nodded mutely again, and then left.

As soon as Grace was out of earshot, Fargus turned to Matthew. "Alright then, spit it out, what'cha find out about her? And what was that with the hand? Was that a ring? You falling for her or somethin'?"

"I just might have, Fargus, I just might have." He turned around, just to make sure Grace definitely had left. "She's a Wyvern General. One of the three that runs Bern's military. That's what the whole thing with the ring was about. Wanted to make sure I didn't get it wrong. She claims she's just a scholar investigating the ruins, but she's probably checking whether the dragon gate on the island still works. I'd put my money on it."

For a moment, the pirate looked as if he was about to order his crew to throw Grace overboard, but it passed. Instead, he just leaned back on the railing. "Well, shiver me timbers," in a somewhat hushed tone, "so what 'cha gonna do about it?"

"Relay all that I've told you to 'The Man', and tell him I've had my holiday extended for a bit. It's business, even if it isn't official. If all goes well and the gate doesn't work anymore, then we'll let her be. Her disappearance could cause a lot of 'problems' from Bern, which is the last thing you want. If she can somehow work it… then that's where I'll do what I do best. Pity, though, she reminds me of Leila." The said 'problems' Matthew referred to were spies who would be sent to track her. At the very worst, there could be a bounty placed on Fargus and his crew, if the spies investigated long and hard enough and it led back to them.

"Be careful with this one, yer hear me? She's not the average catch, I'll wager that much. B'sides, don't want 'cha dying on me yet. Business has never been this great." He'd known the pirate long enough to see the double meaning in his words. Despite the fact that Matthew had affirmed his intentions were strictly business, Fargus knew that the possibility of being stuck with a beautiful woman for a month on a deserted island was tempting indeed.

Matthew flashed him a grin. "Don't worry, I have no intention of dying."

* * *

Please R&R!


	7. Out of the Frying Pan

Ok, so out of the frying pan and into the fire. Yes, that sounds about right. We're off the ship, and we have action again.

You know things are gonna get hairy when something happens on first watch.

* * *

Brenya surveyed her surroundings. The ship's captain had dropped them off in a small cove. Directly ahead of them was a forest that certainly fitted the dark atmosphere of the island. Heck, even the shore itself wasn't sand but a gritty, pebbly, grey coloured shale that had been smoothed away by the waves. In the distance was a not too inviting mountain ridge.

"So, Grace, have you any idea where these ruins are? I don't really want to be wandering around aimlessly for weeks, you know.

"I could say the same for you. I suppose you've never seen wormwood in your whole life." Already her patience with the rogue was fraying. The man hadn't intended to offend yet… she just snapped at him.

She put it down to period stress. Yes, that had to be it.

"Well, we should probably look for somewhere to set up camp then. Fargus was kind enough to provide us with two tents, although one would have probably been enough. You want first watch or second?"

Brenya blinked at Richard. "Why would we need to alternate watches on a deserted island like this? There aren't any people around."

Again, that characteristic smirk. "There might not be any locals, but that's not to say this place is friendly. I mean, it is called the Dread Isle for a reason."

Maybe it wasn't period pain. Maybe it was just that he was right all the time. "I suppose you're right. Well, I'll take first watch then. I prefer to wake up refreshed."

* * *

After some debate as to where to setup camp, they'd pitched it a little higher up on the shore, but still a respectable distance from the forest. Brenya had wanted to set it up near the edge of the forest, but Richard had kindly pointed out that if anything was to attack them in the middle of the night, it would come from there. Again, she had to concede that he had a point.

She sighed and glanced at the embers of the fire, with the tent positioned between it and the forest. Another one of his suggestions; she'd wanted a roaring fire, but that would have piqued the interest of many a potential monster. "Keeps the fireflies and moths away too", he'd grinned.

She'd never made a bad call (she made a few poor ones, but none that she couldn't remedy) while in the army, so was it because she felt upstaged by a stranger? Certainly not. She'd been rebuked by superiors and equals over the less-than-optimal decisions, yet it never affronted her, and she had to concede that two people travelling was very different to an army on the move, so she was bound to make less than perfect suggestions. Was it the smirk? Well, it certainly could be, but then again, Narshen gave her plenty of suggestive (and far less reputable) looks all the time when in council, but that never bothered her.

It hit her then.

The reason this man irritated her so much was because he was always one step ahead of her. He was never surprised by her actions; if anything, all he'd done so was to point out the holes in her story, the holes in her reasoning. It was as if he knew something, and was playing a game of cat-and-mouse with her. Even when joking around, the man always had the parting riposte.

It suddenly dawned on her that Richard, being an assassin and all, could be a spy from another country sent to shadow her movements. However, she quickly dismissed the thought. Zephiel had given the instructions to her with only Murdock in their presence, who'd carefully ensured that the throne room and the surrounding areas were vacated for the better part of an hour, and sneaking in… well, Murdock had a reputation for covering all bases. He'd even gone as far as to ensure that her travelling attire would not give away her status or rank, even ordering her to hide the pendant until she need to use it to identify herself. She wasn't even given any escort, discreetly slipping away from the castle in the dead of night. No, even if someone knew about her mission, tracking her would have been impossible.

She sighed again. It had been years since she'd kept watch, and she'd broken the all important rule of not letting her mind wander while on duty. Being a general meant that you traded watch duty for strategising and planning next day's march.

She heard a rustle, and quickly snatched up her tome, with her back to the fire. Her military training was all coming back to her. Keeping your back to the fire prevented you from blinding yourself to your surroundings.

That was when she realised that the rustling must have come from the forest. She was facing the sea.

Which meant she'd effectively not kept watch at all throughout the night.

She whipped around just in time to see a fireball hurtling towards the tent.

Her eyes widened even more when a flash of silver and a red blur burst from the tent and tackled her to the ground. And not a moment too soon. The fireball tore through the top of the tent and would have crashed into her if not for Richard's timely… appearance

"You were supposed to be keeping watch," he hissed as he immediately leapt off her, blades drawn. "Quickly, into the forest! And try not to run in a straight line!"

Brenya didn't need to be told twice, and immediately took off after the man. Already a second fireball was heading towards them, although how the second fireball could be so accurate in the pitch-black night unnerved her. So that was why Richard had told her to zig-zag.

_Either these guys are really good, or that shot was lucky,_ she thought as she darted into the forest. That was when she realised that she'd completely lost Richard.

She ran. She didn't know how long she'd been running, or if Richard had been caught, but she knew that if she stopped, she'd be dead. Her pursuers were good. Every now and then there would be a bright explosion behind her or the unmistakable whistle of an arrow, although, gradually, the sounds and the brightness dimmed.

And then suddenly, everything stopped.

No more explosions, no more bright lights. Strange that, shouldn't there have been a shout or sound of some sort to get such a co-ordinated response? Apart from the explosions, she'd heard nothing. In fact, there had been no shouting, no battlecries, nothing at all, save the explosions, the whistling of arrows and her breathing that had penetrated the silence. It was as it those attacking them were mute.

Yet they were co-ordinated. Way too co-ordinated to be human, even.

She kept running until she burst into a clearing with a great big rotted tree in the middle of it, and a pile of, wait, was that… freshly displaced earth? It was as if someone had been buried here, and then… unearthed. That when she noticed that there were two blurs dancing around one another in the clearing, with the unmistakable sound of steel clashing on steel.

At her entrance, one of the blurs leapt back, clutching his arm. "Grace?" Richard began, but was cut off by the unmistakable sound of a woman's laughter. Not the happy type, but the more maniacal type.

"Well, well, Matthew, you really have forgotten all about me! Look, you even have a new woman to prove it!"

And then for the second time in that night, Brenya found herself tackled to the ground by Rich… wait, Matthew.

And not a moment too soon. A small object whizzed through where her head had been just moments before. It hit the tree, and connected with a thud. It was curved knife, although give the way it was quivering and the sound, she'd expected an axe.

"Oh, protecting her too, are you?" she continued to cackle. "Don't worry, soon you won't have to choose at all!"

* * *

Okay, that was a bit predictable. I hope i portrayed Leila right, but I assume I get given a bit of leeway right? Everyone turned into a morph tends to go from creepy to creepier, so i figured there's nothing stopping me from turing Leila into Sonia Ver. 2.

You've seen it before, but R&R are much appreciated!


	8. Into the Fire

I'm not going to say much about this chapter, since it overlaps significantly with the previous one. This is Matthew's POV, basically. But i felt it important, especially given what he came here for.

I've also attributed that vital kill to Matthew, because it helps to add an ever greater weight to his already burdened soul. I'm such a nice author, aren't I?

Reviews are much appreciated. If you've been trawling up to here in one setting I'd tell you to Stop, Revive, Survive, but as of posting this up this is the last chapter, so maybe you should finish it off, so you wouldn't have to come back to it until i post up more to it.

DISCALIMER: I think we all get it by now.

* * *

This definitely wasn't how he'd planned it. He'd lost track of Grace already.

Of course, he'd never expected morphs to still be on the island. Then again, it wasn't as if they'd razed the island completely. A few morphs hiding would have been perfectly explainable, but the numbers that had attacked were a bit too high for that.

He burst into a clearing. The same one that he'd buried his beloved Leila in. He'd used the giant rotted tree as a marker, for a situation such as this. Except… the grave was empty.

Matthew opened his mouth, but no words came out. No sound. It was as if someone had ripped his throat out.

That was when a voice he never thought he'd hear again puncture the silence. "Matthew? Is that you?"

There was silence. No fireballs, no knives, nothing.

Just silence.

"You can come out now, Leila. I know you're there."

Matthew didn't even need to see the red flash drop in from above him. Only one woman he knew would ever dare something as risky as that. He stepped back just in time, something she definitely wouldn't expect. Of course, being the woman that she was, she'd prepared for it anyway

"So you're not even going to catch me?" her voice sounded genuinely hurt.

Matthew eyed her cautiously. She'd died that day. There was no mistaking those kill-marks made by the Angel of Death. The woman in front of him couldn't possibly be her. Nor could she have survived twelve years fighting off those morphs that had just attacked them.

Yet everything; her voice, her appearance, her mannerisms, everything shouted at him to rush to her, to his beloved Leila. Everything reminded him of the times they'd spent together; as thieves, as spies, as lovers. Well, perhaps she was a bit paler. And her eyes somehow just looked… lifeless. Oh, they were still red, but that sparkle, that light, was just missing.

Wait, a bit paler? And creepy eyes? Didn't that sound like a…

The realisation hit him like a sledgehammer. She definitely wasn't Leila. He backed away slowly. And he pulled out his daggers.

"Don't worry, Leila. I will put you… out of this… this torment."

She grinned that seductive grin that she'd always given him and him only, and Matthew had to fight hard to not return the wink he'd reply with to complete their private greeting. "Lady Limstella told me it wouldn't have worked. But I had to try anyway."

Matthew almost choked. Limstella? But, hadn't he…

He drew his daggers and leapt at her.

Matthew slashed and slashed again and again, with the skill and precision he'd acquired in his twelve years of being a professional assassin. Yet, it wasn't enough. Her strength, her skill, her speed all matched his; no, he could tell she was holding back. She was stronger, faster, and more skilled. Of course, being turned into a morph had that effect on people.

He heard a rustle from the side. If it was another morph, he was dead. The thought distracted him momentarily, and that was all she needed.

Her knife found its mark on his shoulder. Matthew ignored the pain as the blade, one of a pair that he'd given her, cut into his shoulder. He twisted to look at the newcomer. "Grace?" This was bad.

The cut itself was superficial. Where it cut deeply was his heart. Matthew tried his best to hide it. _She isn't Leila. This isn't Leila._

Leila seemed to have noticed this, and put her daggers away. "Well, well, Matthew, you really have forgotten all about me! Look, you even have a new woman to prove it!" For a moment she looked like she was fumbling for something, but Matthew knew better.

He didn't have a choice. Mustering all his strength, he leapt at Grace and pushed her to the ground again. And not a moment too soon, as a knife whizzed past where her head would have been but a split second ago.

"Oh, protecting her too, are you? Don't worry, soon you won't have to choose at all!"

He got up again, only to sink to one knee. The blade was poisoned, he knew, but didn't matter. He had to keep fighting. Grace alone would never stand a chance against her, Wyvern General or not.

"Oh look. You're kneeling. Are you going to propose to me then? Don't worry, dear, you'll join me soon enough. The paralysing agent won't kill you, but it'll put you to sleep for…"

There was the unmistakable whoosh of a fireball from behind him, and Leila dived to avoid it. It crashed into the rotting tree trunk and exploded. Matthew turned around and saw that it was Grace, a fire tome in her hand.

"You!" Leila hissed at Grace. "You dare stand up to me?" She smiled evilly. "I… Lady Limstella… no… but… yes… yes, I understand." She turned back to the pair "Lady Limstella has told me to let you live… for now. Don't worry, woman, Matthew belongs to me and me alone. There's no way he could ever fall for someone like you, not for long, anyway," Leila spat.

She turned back to Matthew. "I always told you that you were a lousy spy. You're too compassionate. You let people die… naturally. You slash the artery open, not through." She shook her head. "Such sloppy work. Don't worry, Lady Limstella will fix that up for you. Oh, by the way, give my regards to Lord Hector."

She blew a kiss at him, and then disappeared into the night.

And suddenly all became a blur to Matthew.

* * *

Well, well this is an interesting turn of events, wouldn't you say?


	9. The Truth Revealed

I put another chapter up. Finally. You _may_ skip the rest of this bit and go straight to the story, since its the rants of my obsessive-compulsive disorder to try and squeeze things into canon timeline (which some people may not care about). It's kinda ironic, I'm having difficulty writing the next 3/4 chapters, but i know where i'll go after that. So please be patient while i work out how to do this.

I've smacked myself for not thinking about this, but after extensively gaming/trawling through the game scripts (i could've googled it, but i had a unfinished Ch 27 HHM sitting around) i realised that Zephiel couldn't have become king until at least 15 years after FE7 so to bring my story back into the canon timeline, i've moved the entire story three years forward. It's nothing major, just a few edits here and there to put things back into perspective.

I've recieved some reviews/PMs asking about the age gap between Matthew and Brenya (and how it should probably keep them from ever getting together). If you think about it, the age gap can't be all that big. If we make Matthew 17 at the time the events in FE7 take place he'll be 37 by the time FE6 happens. If we give five years for Brenya to move through the ranks and then another five years (since she's already a Wyvern General now, and this is 5 years before FE6) then assuming she joins the Bernese military at 16 she needs to be at least 26 by the time FE6 comes around. That's an 11 year difference. Hey, in the real world, some people approve of things far greater than that. Sorry, DarkBlaziken, i know you've been through this before, but look on the bright side, i thought the point you raised was good enough to be put into the next chapter's author's notes!

Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem. I am however, interested in buying a slice of property on Valor. Could someone point me to a reliable, non-morph real estate agent i could speak to?

R&R please!

* * *

She looked at Rich… no, Matthew. She was sure that the paralyzing agent had not meant to kill, since after all that woman had planned on taking him in alive. The wound itself was quite shallow, and there had been no sign of any potential infection. Either way, she still washed it. Just in case, she told herself. Just in case. The last thing I need is him dying on me, even if he happens to be a spy in service to Marquess Ostia.

Brenya wondered seriously if she should just execute the man right there and then for pulling her into all this mess, and for lying so brazenly. But she needed answers, and right now he was the only one who could provide any. Their assailants had all but disappeared. The forest had returned to being as quiet as it had been when she started to keep watch. Their enemies were… inhuman, and this man knew a thing or two about it.

She turned around just in time to see the man stir. Brenya figured that before anything else, she would have her answers first. "You make a move, Matthew, and you die."

He opened his eyes. "Grace? So you didn't kill me after all."

Brenya regarded him coldly. "I haven't yet. That doesn't mean that I won't. You have one chance to explain just what the hell is going on here."

He shrugged, "I suppose that's more than what I deserve. But that's on the condition you tell me just what a Wyvern General would want with this god-forsaken place."

So the man had known all along. "I don't think you're in any position to bargain here. I want answers now."

He smirked. How could he still be smirking in this situation? "You're not going to get answers out of a corpse, so death threats don't mean a thing. Besides, isn't it a bit ungrateful to someone who's saved your life twice? Not to mention you'd be doing Leila a favour if you did that."

_Why can't he just be wrong for once?_ "And why would I care for that? It's not as if I have any interest in your… lover's squabbles." She wanted a footing, any footing against the man.

"Because, the creature who did this to her would just do the same to me. Perhaps you don't understand, but Leila's going to kill you. I'd say you stand a better chance against her with me fighting with you than against you. Pretty simple, really."

She frowned at that. Again, the man was right.

"Look, Grace…"

"Brenya."

"Say what?"

"My name is Brenya, Wyvern General of Bern. I cannot tell you my mission, though."

He smirked yet again. "The gate's sealed. Go home and report that to your king."

"What? How could you..."

"Because, fifteen years ago, I was here, along with Lord Hector. We were part of a group that sealed the gate to stop a man by the name of Nergal. Limstella was his most trusted underling." Brenya watched the man look away again. "I was supposed to have killed her. I delievered the finishing blow when we fought her. How she recovered is a mystery to me."

"But that doesn't explain why you're here, or our assailants were so co-ordinated. If we're going to survive this, then I need all the information you can give me."

_Since when did it become "we"?_ she silently though to herself.

The man sat up, and shrugged again. "I suppose I can tell you, I guess. Not that information is of much consequence. The creatures who attacked us are called morphs. They're created through the use of life energy, or quintessence, as some of the sages in our group called it, stolen from people. I guess the reason that they're so strong is because you can pack a lot more life force into a morph than there normally is in an average human. They're incredible fighters, make no mistakes, don't have unnecessary thoughts; the perfect killing machines. About the only thing they don't do is twist away when they get hit, which makes it easier for you to kill them if you're fast."

Had the situation been any different, Brenya would have dismissed the claims as mad. But having seen the morphs in action though, she had to concede that maybe there was some credence to Matthew's story. "Who was Leila to you?" she gently pressed.

At first, the rogue didn't say anything. Brenya silently wondered if she'd crossed a line, prying into his personal affairs. She was about to quickly dismiss her own question, cover for her mistake, but the Matthew beat her to it.

"Leila… was the best spy we had working for us. She infiltrated their organization, but blundered. For her mistake, she was killed." The man looked up into the sky. "I… after that mission, I was going to tell her to put this life behind us, settle down, but I guess I waited too long. That was fifteen years ago, and I thought I'd come visit her grave, since I've never been back. Now, she's… she's a…" He couldn't finish the sentence.

When he looked back down, Brenya could see a tear running down his left cheek. He hadn't actually mentioned much about his past with Leila, but his words had covered a lot of unspoken things about the nature of his and Leila's relationship. "I'm sorry," was all she could say. It felt so inadequate.

The rogue shrugged. "It's not like you had anything to do with it." He stood up and looked around. "Well, then, what now? Fargus doesn't come back for at least another four weeks."

"I don't know, Matthew, I really don't know."

* * *

R&R please!


	10. Rush Hour

This is chapter is possibly the most action-packed chapter I've written so far, but I'm not sure if i pitched the action too much, too quickly. Also, I'm aware that the flying knife is definitely NOT part of the FE game mechanics, but hey it works.

Methinks also that i may get raked over hot coals a little for condensing what could have been two chapters of character development into a dozen lines of newspaper-style reporting at the beginning of this chapter. I tried, honestly, i did. But it either sounded too cheesy or ended up going towards something kinda sleazy. So i just kept it as is. There'll be plenty of other chapters up ahead of character development anyways.

Those of you who have played HHM (or normal maybe- i can't remember) should know that the residence/mansion here is the same one where you fight Teodor was the place where Nergal once studied (based off the storyline around it). I don't remember if he owned the place, but I figured it would be fair to assume that he would have written a thesis (or hundred) while he studied there.

Anyways, please R&R!

Disclaimer: I like the mansion they're fighting in (despite the pain it would be to maintain), but I don't own it. Or any other part of Fire Emblem.

* * *

On paper, the plan was simple. Spend three weeks in a creepy forest filled with morphs, kill as many as possible and take out Limstella without either of them getting killed. Either she'd be hiding in Dragon's Gate, or that weird residence where they'd found Teodor, or the little hideout where they finally fought Kishuna and slew him. Four weeks to search out three places that had taken them a week and a bit all up last time he was here. Even if they had to move together and cover most ground twice (once for scouting, once for moving things to a new campsite), they'd still make it, right?

Wrong. Rain had stopped them from going anywhere for the first week. After making limited progress towards their destinations an eerie fog decided to settle over the island, hampering progress for another few days. It was good because he was able to rest up, but it meant they'd lost almost a third of their time to search the ruins.

Even though it was a few days' hike to Teodor's residence, being closer than the other two, it was a good place as any to start.

Again, how wrong he was.

* * *

Another arrow whizzed by his head. As he ducked to avoid it, Matthew had to admit that of all the possibilities that they'd thought of, this was probably the most stupid.

He blamed it on Brenya's military training. Stupid military types and their stupid military logic. "No matter what the odds, an attempt to neutralise this threat must be made," or so she had said. "If we don't, there could be dire ramifications for the continent." It wasn't wrong, just to someone like him, it bordered on suicidal.

Scratch that, it was suicidal. Two people fighting ten morphs in an open hall, no obstacles whatsoever. Not to mention doors on all four sides. They'd already fought off one group of six in another hallway and another group of nine around a dining table. Morphs were the sort of opponents that would never give up, and Matthew assumed could telepathically communicate, given how fast they were closing in on the two of them.

Matthew twisted aside, to avoid the berserker's axe from splitting him into two down the middle. At the same time he delivered a nasty cut to the morph's left arm to ensure he wouldn't be lifting anything for a while. Another slash to the side of his neck and the giant of a man toppled. Matthew twisted again, only to have to duck to avoid the silver flash of a sword that had he been but a split second slower, would have cleaved his head off his shoulders. Ramming the hero in the chest with his elbow, he followed up with a wicked upward slash that laid the morph's innards bare. He barely had time to catch his breath before being forced to do a backward flip to avoid the unmistakable glow of exploding light magic. His flip had placed him near the sniper, so he tackled the man to the ground, slashing open the morph's face in the process. Matthew spun around to come face to face with yet another berserker who tried a sideways chop, only to have the assassin slide under his axe and delivering a doubled legged kick to his right leg, putting him off balance. The man fell over as Matthew jumped back up, stabbing both his daggers into the man's chest.

Matthew turned to see Brenya spin around, creating a whirl of flame and simultaneously setting two generals alight. A short distance away, near the front door was a charred corpse and a curved sword, all that remained of the first morph to burst into the room. Matthew saw that the bishop was preparing to launch another blast of light, this time at Brenya. Knowing that he couldn't close the distance in time, he threw the knife in his left hand at the bishop. It buried itself into the morph's casting arm, causing the bishop's said blast to explode in his own face. Matthew turned to see another swordmaster leap at him, but it was too late. There was no way he could block in time with a just a single blade.

A small silver blur flew past the assassin and hit the swordmaster squarely in the chest. Matthew could only watch in amazement as the morph crashed into the ground and slid about half a metre past him. The knife Matthew had thrown at the bishop had been flung backwards by the blast and taken out the swordmaster. Quickly retrieving his dagger he whirled around to see Brenya finish of the last morph, a druid struggling to fight off the flames on his cloak as Brenya threw another fireball at him.

The unmistakable sound of running footsteps from the left signified the entrance of fresh reinforcements.

Matthew simply took off for the right doorway at a run. Brenya quickly followed suit after lobbing a fireball into the left hallway.

"We can't keep this up," Brenya panted. "That's the third lot we've come across here, and they're getting better at hemming us in."

Matthew nodded. "There's a secret exit in the library," he gasped, "I found it while we were exploring here." Silently, he thanked Canas' insistence on taking a day out to survey the place after Nergal's defeat.

He banked and did a sharp right, glancing back quickly to make sure Brenya had followed suit.

"Matthew! Watch out!"

Matthew turned back to see nothing but flames in front of him. A wall of ice exploded in front of him and Matthew felt Brenya tackle him from behind, pushing him down to stop him from being impaled on the spikes of ice. Matthew appreciated the move, even if it turned out to be unnecessary as the combination of fire and ice had produced a mist that surrounded them.

Matthew quickly flipped Brenya over and whirled around, daggers at the ready. Brenya jumped up, and the two of them were back to back, ready to meet the new threat.

"Cease and desist. Resistance is futile." The voice echoed throughout the room, yet to Matthew it was strangely familiar.

He'd heard that voice before. It was the same calm, collected, icy voice of the wom… no, creature that supposedly died at his hands.

"Who are you! Show yourself!" Brenya called out.

A magic circle appeared in front of Matthew. Brenya sensed the magic and spun around with a surprised look on her face. "A warp circle," she whispered. "That sort of circle is only…"

"Possible for magic users of the highest caliber, no?" completed the woman who had materialized from the said circle. She turned her gaze to Matthew. "Wonderful. Truly wonderful. Your quintessence has matured beyond far beyond my expectations. Leila will be overjoyed when you join us."

"I have no intention of joining you," Matthew retorted.

"As I have explained, resistance is futile. However, your insistence will prove to be a difficult obstacle. Perhaps you need a bit of convincing. For instance, if we have your companion join us, perhaps you would be more inclined? Although Leila will not be pleased, I must have you. You are a fine specimen indeed. Your skill has surpassed even Jaffar, whom Lord Nergal held in high regard."

"How did you survive?"

"I can only hazard a guess, as I do not truly understand myself. However, after studying Lord Nergal's works in the library around us," she gestured to the shelves surrounding her, "I have come to the conclusion that the death of a being releases the quintessence stored inside them. Although most of Lord Nergal's quintessence was consumed in the calling of the dragon which you slew, I was able to scavenge enough to heal the lethal injuries which were slowly draining me of my own quintessence."

Matthew did his best to hide the shock on his face.

_This is Lord Nergal's_... _residence?_

_

* * *

_

So how was it?

Again, please R&R!


	11. Between a Rock and a Hard Place

Hi peoples, I'm aware that i haven't updated in a while, but Nix Providence and SD gundam G generation DS kept me a bit busy... then uni started, and all hell broke loose (ever felt like the lecture hall just feels a little too empty? they failed a lot - over 20% - of people last year T_T"). I'm about to hit exams since I have four half semesters instead of the usual two, so I am massively stressed out at the moment.

Here is the next chapter of this fic. A tad rushed (well, the draft has been sitting on my compter for about 2 months, but the edits didn't start until 40 minutes before i typed this), but i feel that after 3+ months of silence, i do owe people (which may be nobody - i have nobody but me to blame for that) who are following this something.

I have two weeks break at the end of this week, and the next two or so chapters done, but i'm not satisfied with them just yet. I will try to get this particular arc of the story finished in those two weeks (looking at maybe another two or so chapters on top of the one's i've already done) and maybe move on to the next one, but that dosn't even have a coherent storyline. Ideas aplenty, but no real storyline. I'm also a fanatic about sticking to the canon storyline, so that complicates things.

There's a mix of action and development in this, but it's more to move the storyline on than anything else. I am not sure if i pitched Limstella's entrance alright in this chapter - she's still a little too friendly for my liking. As for the -ahem- grenades that Matthew carry, I took a little liberty in assuming that if you can lay a mine that magically activates when someone steps on it, it's but a single step away from making them throwable right? I'm also aware that to some people Brenya sounds a little like a hormone-riddled teenager (not that i have much experience with that - puberty didn't really do much to me) in this chapter, but please bear with it - it's something which i will address soon.

I am going to shut up since this is getting to be quite a lot longer than i expected.

Disclaimer: I wish I owned a library like the one that's about to get trashed. Unfortunately I don't, and I don't own Fire Emblem or its characters either.

* * *

Brenya glanced at the assassin beside her, only to see a look of shock on his face. It hit her then. _Wasn't Lord Nergal…_

The morph saw the look on their faces and then proceeded to smile. "Ah yes, this place used to be Lord Nergal's residence long before he came to be known by such a name. Much of his findings and theories are recorded in the tomes around us. Using his understanding and some experimentation of my own, I have achieved what I understand you humans might call necromancy. Leila is proof of my success."

"She's a morph," protested Matthew.

Limstella shook his head. "No. She is much more than that. A morph is but a construct. It does as it is told. It has no attachments, no feelings, no purpose other than that which it was created for. Leila is far more than that. Leila has an unfulfilled wish, or what you human would call a reason to continue living. The quintessence merely facilitates that wish."

Brenya focused on the newcomer. She had jet-black hair, which while uncombed had a certain flair to it. Brenya could feel the magical emanations coming from this woman, and knew immediately that her own powers were no match for this… morph. Even her outfit, similar to that of a nobleman's, with the high collar and reinforced cuffs, gave off a magical aura that was far from faint. But the giveaway that she was anything but human were her eyes. They were a golden colour, yet they lacked that sparkle, that energy that even the most destitute human possessed.

The morph turned to look at her. "My apologies, I believe that it is a human custom to introduce oneself to a stranger to become more acquainted with them. I am Limstella."

"I am Brenya," she stated flatly.

The morph's lifeless golden orbs continued to bore into her. "Although you may not be as good a specimen as Matthew, you still have much potential. You too, should join us. Would you not like to know how you could increase you abilities ten-fold?"

Brenya said nothing in reply, instead continuing keep her calm, cold, demeanor. She could feel Limstella's magical energy probing her own, looking for an opening. The creature's words were just a simple ploy to create such an opening to allow some form of magic (which Brenya assumed was coercive in nature) to make her easier to manipulate.

The silence continued. The morphs had all but fallen silent, probably at the command of this wom… no, this creature.

"Very well. If you cannot be convinced, then I will have to resort to force."

And with a simple wave of the morph's hand as she began to teleport out, all hell broke loose. Brenya heard at least the whiz of four arrows and maybe two or more magical explosions.

Both Matthew and her jumped out of the way and scooted behind the now semi-destroyed bookshelf. The morphs had lost them in the ensuing smoke and dust from the explosion and were now randomly blasting the library in an attempt to draw them out.

Matthew pointed at the far wall. "Third bookshelf from the right. Can you blast it open?" he yelled, but over the explosions, it sounded like a whisper.

She nodded.

"Get ready to blast it when I say so!" as he pulled a strange stick with a ball on the end from his belt. She watched as he twisted the ball and threw it in the general direction of the morphs.

Brenya saw his lips move but couldn't hear him. Either ways, she lobbed a decent sized fireball at the bookshelf he'd pointed and began to rush towards it.

_Well, this is certainly something they don't prepare you for at the military academy._ Brenya thought to herself.

The bookshelf was no more than a metre away now. If Matthew had picked the wrong bookshelf…

She forced herself not to think about it as she charged through the smoke, Matthew close behind. Instead of the sickening crunch of running full-tilt into a stone wall that she'd expected, she only found a small room with a hallway at the other end

There was a loud boom that revebrated from library. She looked back over her shoulder to see Matthew pull out another one of those strange sticks, twist the top and toss it behind him.

She didn't see the sharp left in the hallway until it was too late.

"Brenya! Watch out!"

She twisted away to avoid the wall and would have fallen over if the assassin hadn't deftly twisted around her and caught her as she fell. Unfortunately for them, Brenya's momentum was greater than Matthew had anticipated, and they ended up falling over anyway, with her landing on top of him.

_There's something ever so slightly… enticing… about this compromising pose that we're in at the moment_.

The thought caught Brenya off guard, and for a moment she just hesitated, stunned at the very notion that such a thought about the rogue resided in her head. Their lives were in danger, and yet, that was the first thing that she thought of?

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it), Matthew's mind had been more focused on survival. He simply pushed her off and helped her up. He looked over to the now sizzling stick he'd chucked. "That thing's going to blow soon, and I don't want to be anywhere near it when it does."

Brenya couldn't agree more as they took off down the hallway again.

This time, she let Matthew lead.

* * *

So how was it! Please R&R!


	12. Capture!

Here's another update. Interestingly, I thought I'd put this one up already, but it appears i havent.

There's not that much to say about this chapter. Well, I guess there's a little more action, and a bit of a plot twist, if a tad cliched. Having said that, I wonder if Leila is becoming a little too OP for my liking.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem. No witty remark this time.

* * *

Night had fallen by the time they're reached the end of the passageway. It had led to a cave hidden in a wooded hillside.

Matthew and Brenya were far too tired to say anything. The simply sat down near the cave entrance.

He watched as Brenya prepared to click her finger when he grabbed her wrist to stop her. "No fire," he rasped, "too easy to track."

The reality was grim. They were days away from their base camp, and no doubt their advance camp would have been discovered and razed. They had maybe half a day's water and no food between them. Then there was the issue of the compromising pose they'd been in earlier. He'd caught the hesitation in Brenya's eyes, and it brought back a memory of long ago.

He still remembered it like it was yesterday.

_Matthew leaned against the wooden beam near the middle of the abandoned barn, facing the one and only entrance of the barn. He'd been told that he would meet an accomplice here, but beyond that, he knew nothing._

_He'd been waiting for a while now, and wondered if this person would show up. He pulled his hood closer to his head._

_And that was when she struck._

_She came from above, but in the darkness her aim was slightly off. Instead of landing beside him, she'd landed on top of him._

_Their faces were inches apart._

"_So, beautiful, I take it you're the informant?" he said with his characteristic smirk._

_And that was how it all began._

He was so lost in his thought Brenya's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Someone's here!" she hissed.

The two of them immediately stood up, weapons ready and back to back, watching for any sign of movement. Of course, the assailant came from the only place they hadn't expected; from above.

Matthew whirled around but was too late. He heard a thud and almost instantly, Brenya collapsed onto the ground. Although he wanted to check if Brenya was alright, the red flash that had dropped from above had begun slashing at him, and it took all his concentration to avoid being sliced.

This was a worse situation than the one he'd been in the night they got here. If he lost now, which was highly likely, then all would be over. Heck, Leila had probably just killed Brenya, so it was probably all over for her anyway.

"Heh, she's not around to save you now, is she?" Leila mocked him gloatingly. He was holding up, but only just. The day's events were beginning to catch up to him, and he was losing concentration. All he could do was parry. He saw yet another silver flash head towards his chest, but knew it was too late.

Except, instead of the slicing sound he'd expected, she winded him with a punch. Matthew sank to his knees. Of course, she was supposed to bring him in alive.

Leila threw a small sack at him. It was filled with provisions.

"There's enough for you to get to Dragon's Gate in there, but not quite enough for you to head back to your camp," she smiled evilly. "We expect to see you in two days. Head north from here until you hit a path, then follow the path to the gate." She looked at the unconscious Brenya. "I'll be taking her there first. Don't worry, I haven't killed her… yet."

"And what guarantee do I have that you won't?" Matthew countered as he slowly got up.

"You don't, darling." she laughed as she hauled Brenya onto her shoulders and disappeared off into the night.

* * *

Matthew wondered why he was heading north. Three to four days south was not that hard of a hike for him, so he would probably make it if he stretched out his provisions, but something had stopped him from doing so.

Again, everything he was doing went against his principles of being a spy. Those who take risks should know the consequences of being caught. Whatever those consequences were, then so be it. Helping an accomplice was a noble thing to do, but it wasn't cruel to leave someone behind. The secrecy of the organisation was prioritised over the lives of a few members. That was how it was in the world of spies. An operative who had been caught was as good as dead, and could expect no help.

Yet here he was, trudging along a path, on a deserted island filled creepy morphs, trying to save someone whom he had no real affiliations, nay, whom he should have been enemies with.

Maybe it had something to do with saving her from the morphs but Matthew quickly dismissed the thought as it made no sense. If anything, Brenya's death at the hands of morphs would have been quite convenient an excuse to explain that she would not be coming back.

Leila, maybe? It was true that he still held some affection for her, but the realist inside him told him that if anything, he just wanted to put her out of this torment. It did occur to him however, that while on this island, he'd stopped thinking about her as much. Of course, that could be to do with the fact that surviving was his top priority, but even in the week he'd used to recover…

It hit him then. The similarity with Leila. The toying with the names. The back-and-forth ripostes that flew between them. Their lack of embarrassment when tackling one another even in dangerous situations. Brenya's hesitation when they were in a compromising position. It was possible that they'd been leading each other on a bit too much, and without realising it…

Matthew's head immediately churned out at least a dozen reasons why they were not to be. Their positions in society. Their nationalities. Their age difference. Their guiding principles. And the list went on.

Again, wasn't that the first thing he'd done when he began to notice Leila as a rather alluring presence in his life? (Well, apart from the age difference and maybe guiding principles – but then again, Leila had been a spy)

The other issue was that he doubted that he (or Brenya, for that matter) was emotionally motivated. Maybe they were getting a little too cosy at times with one another, but it was still unlikely. They had protected each other because their chances of survival were better if there were two of them, right? Wasn't it co-operation out of necessity?

However, the question still remained. What was Brenya to him? Too close to be just an accomplice, he would concede, but where was the line between an accomplice and a friend? He'd left accomplices behind in the past, heck, he'd even left behind friends, (admittedly not very good ones), but the only person he'd never leave behind (bar Lord Hector) would have been Leila, were she still alive. Brenya had somehow now made it onto that list, even if it was just a promise. But then again, what was a spy's promise worth?

He figured it didn't matter anyway, since he probably wouldn't make it off the island. And even if he did, they'd be separated from one another anyways.

* * *

How was it? R&R please! Just to tell anyone reading this, 13~17 have been written, but the real bottleneck is at 14/15. Those two just aren't up to scratch, and they still need to be re-worked properly, or at least until they hit the satisfactory mark and some more.


	13. Heart to Heart

Hello eveyone! I has another chapter! It's a moment of revelation chapter, and I don't think it worked as well as I liked, but it's reached a point where I simply cannot change much plot wise to it because of how much further down the track I've written.

Before you read it though, I'd like to make an important announcement. No , I'm not discontinuing this fic; if anything, I should be able to write and possibly review other people's work more this year (or what's left of it). The announcement was that after toying around with the storyline for further down the track, I have decided NOT to make them romantically involved. That's not to say I can't play the attraction and hormones game with them, but I will draw the line at suggestive situations and not have them go much further, if at all. Maybe a kiss or two, but nothing concrete or lemony in any way.

Having said that, the next two chapters are still not polished enough (in fact the next chapter is under it's fourth reworking and the chapter after is under it's third). I don't want to rush them and I hate working to deadlines, but I will post them as soo as they reach the satisfactory mark. If someone want's to beta for me throw me a PM with FE credentials.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem. But I'd surely like to have a magically enchanted door that could electrocute anyone who would try to open it without my permission, if nothing than for the troll factor.

* * *

She'd heard the rustle, and snapped Matthew out of his reverie.

What she hadn't expected was for the attack to come from above. The last thing she remembered was a heavy thudding attack to the back of her head, and all had turned dark after that.

* * *

Brenya woke up.

She got up, and to her surprise, she wasn't bound or anything. She was in a somewhat spacious room, but the moment she put her hand to the door, a magical current jolted her, and she immediately removed her hand. Magical feedback. She'd looked over it in her academy days, but it was widely acknowledged that imbuing objects with such a property was so ineffective that it was written off as impossible. Again, that Limstella woman had not failed to amaze.

The door opened, and in came Leila.

"Ah, I see you're awake."

"So what will you do to me now?" Brenya spat bitterly. "Are you going to kill me?"

Leila cackled. "No, no, Lady Limstella won't allow me to do that yet. I merely wanted to have a chat to you. About Matthew."

Brenya bristled at that. She was sick of this woman's insistence that she and Matthew were a couple. "I've told you already…"

The woman held up a hand. "Yes, yes I know what you've said. You don't need to repeat yourself. But let me ask you: if we were willing to let you go if you helped bring Matthew to us, would you do it? Would you leave him behind?"

That caught Brenya off guard. She opened her mouth, but said nothing. What held her back? Her pride as a Wyvern General? Her agreement with Matthew? Would Matthew even come to rescue her?

"I thought as much. Despite everything you say, you can't leave him..."

"That's not it!" Brenya shot back. "I… We…" and shut her mouth again. How could she word to this creature that they'd struck a deal to get off this island together without her jumping to more conclusions? For that matter, why was she concerned about keeping up her end of the bargain despite being in a situation like this?

Leila leaned in. "Yes? You were about to say something concerning the two of you?"

A few moments of silence passed between them.

"I… I will consider your proposal," Brenya finished lamely.

"That proposal will not be acceptable. It was merely a hypothetical situation to draw out the true nature of your relationship with Matthew," came another voice from the door. Brenya looked up and saw Limstella. "As I have indicated before, both of you are good specimens, and I will accept nothing less than both of you. Leila, you will return to shadowing Matthew's movements. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Lady Limstella." Brenya could tell Leila was less than pleased, even if she did comply.

"I would have you join us now, were it not for the fact that you are needed to draw Matthew into our trap. Are the current arrangements comfortable enough?"

"Why would you need me? You have enough numerical superiority to simply capture Matthew and bring him here," Brenya pointed out flatly.

"True," Limstella replied, "but in order to transform both of you into specimens similar to Leila, I need there to be an unfulfilled wish on both your part and his."

"What do you mean?"

"My research has concluded that the difference between a morph and Leila is that prior to her death, she had an unfulfilled wish of sorts. It would appear that this is a requirement to retain the soul of the individual being reanimated. The stronger the desire, the greater the chance of success. Of course, the inherent power of the individual can be augmented as one would augment the powers of a morph. However, the main difference is the retention of the soul seems to allow for the retention of thought processes."

Brenya snorted. "In other words, you want a few more morphs with souls, because they can take independent action."

The bluntness of the statement caught Limstella off guard, even if only for a moment. "Yes. I appreciate their ability to execute tasks with thought processes. It allows for more adaptability to the situation."

"But why would you believe that leaving me alive would leave an unfulfilled wish on Matthew's behalf? While Leila won't believe it, I'm sure…"

Limstella held up a hand to silence her. Brenya could have sworn there was a undercurrent of magic in that gesture. "You are correct in saying that I do not believe that there is an amorous relationship between the two of you, but I am sure that there is a strong enough bond of…," she paused, looking for the correct word, "friendship to warrant an attempted rescue on his behalf. While you will not admit it, I am sure that you appreciate his attempt, no matter how misguided it is. I am also sure the guilt at failure would consume both of you were such a situation to arise, and I suspect that it should be enough to be considered an unfulfilled wish on both you part and his."

"We are merely accomplices, nothing more. And Matthew may not attempt a rescue at all, given his nature."

"While it is true that few spies would be loath to leave their fellow accomplices behind, I have it on good authority that he is headed this way as we speak," Limstella countered evenly. With that, she walked out of the room and shut the door after her, leaving a thoroughly confused Brenya to sort out everything that had just been said.

The situation itself was clear. Brenya was the bait for a trap that Matthew was walking into, set up by Limstella so that they'd end up being her servants.

The confusion was that between Leila's insinuations and Limstella's formal assessment, one thing had become clear; Matthew was definitely far more than an accomplice. Something had grown between them.

But what was it?

* * *

As usual, R&R!


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